Page 29 of Nobody in Particular

“So, you’ll start working on it with me tonight?”

Eleanor recoils. “Well… I’m busy tonight. Actually, I have a thing I need your help with. All of you. Can you come to my room after class?”

Molly starts to pack up her school bag. “I’ll come. I’ll start my portion of the presentation while I’m there.”

After home group and end-of-day prayers, the four of us meet in the hall and make our way to Dewitt. Eleanor’s room is all the way up on C-floor, where she gets sweeping views of the college courtyard from her window. As we ascend, we run into Harriet. She brightens as soon as she sees Danni. She always does.

“Hey,” she says to Danni, as though the rest of us aren’t here at all. “Where are you off to?”

“Eleanor’s,” Danni says. “We have a mystery activity.”

“Ooh, a mystery?” Harriet looks at the rest of us now, eyebrows wiggling. “That sounds intriguing.”

“It’s really not,” I say sharply. Molly’s irritability appears to have rubbed off on me, because my tone is quite uncalled for. At the same time, though, it feels nice for some reason. Especially when Harriet takes the hint and resumes her way downstairs.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” she says. “But promise to tell me what the mystery was when you come back down, okay?”

“If I can.” Danni smiles. “Leave your door open and I’ll come by? If you’re still around, that is.”

“Oh, I’ll be around.”

I suddenly, inexplicably, wish I’d been even ruder to Harriet. What are they doing right now,flirting? It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest on Harriet’s part, because she’s been patently obsessed with Danni since day one, and there was a rumor in second year that she and Nellie Henry kissed behind a tree during school camp. It was never proven, and it eventually died down, but I haven’t forgotten it, because it’s the first time I’d ever heard of anyone else potentially being Like Me.

But if it is flirting, and Danni’s participating, what does that say? Does that mean she likes girls? If so, does she like Harriet? Why?

No, I decide. More than likely she doesn’t like girls at all. Danni is just one of those people who gets along with everyone because she’s kind, and sweet, and a touch too eager to be liked. I can’t relate to one bit of it, even if I do grudgingly admire it.

In Eleanor’s bedroom, I throw my cape on the ground, while Molly sets up her laptop on Eleanor’s desk and Danni pulls out her phone and sits on the bed. I consider sitting beside her, but before I can, Eleanor takes the remaining bed space. So, I sit crossed-legged on the carpet directly across from Danni.

“By the way,” I say, while I have everybody in the one place. “You’re all invited to my mum’s birthday. It’s at the palace this year, so it’s not too far to travel.”

Eleanor nods absentmindedly as she fiddles with her television remote; she has attended Mum’s birthday gatherings yearly for as long as I can remember now, as has Molly. Danni, however, looks positively terrified by the invitation.

“Wait, seriously?” she asks. I imagine, now that I think about it, it’s quite an intimidating prospect for her. The palace, my parents, the distinguished guest list.

“Seriously,” I repeat. “If you would like to, of course.”

“Oh my god, no, definitely. For sure. I’d love to.”

Molly doesn’t say a single word. I might as well have invited the curtains for all the reaction I receive.

Eleanor puts the remote down, and on the television, an episode of her favorite fantasy series,Thorns of Berry and Briar,begins to playon the lowest possible volume. That’s the usual state of affairs when we spend time in Eleanor’s room—she must have watched this show a dozen times from beginning to end, and more so if you count the times she uses it for white noise.

“Okay. How does this sound?” Eleanor asks. She gets to her feet, leaving Danni with an empty space beside her (Why did she sit there in the first place, then?), takes her place in the center of the room, and lifts her chin as though she has a spotlight shining upon her. Then she grabs her cape in a handful by her heart, and bellows: “Your hand, your tongue. Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it.”

“Context would be nice here,” Molly says wryly, head down.

Eleanor lets go of her cape, looking quite deflated. I fear she may have expected a standing ovation. “I’m auditioning for the play.”

Molly looks up from her work, brows furrowed. “… Why?”

“Because Dad says I need to beef up my resume before university applications next year. It’s not enough to be a straight-A student anymore.”

“A point which is highly relevant to you, as a straight-B student,” I say, raising a single eyebrow.

“Um, I get As in math, thank you very much,” Eleanor says. “Molly, back me up.”

Molly does not back Eleanor up. I suppose because she would have to acknowledge my presence to do so.

---